


half in the shadows, half burned in flames

by Selemetis



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety and Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, it's not really a fix it but more like my self indulgent ass, meaning: we are in aziraphale's mind, post armageddon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 20:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19180699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selemetis/pseuds/Selemetis
Summary: There are three things that Aziraphale does to ease his mind.One, he reads.Two, he dines.Three, he calls Crowley.//or, Aziraphale just needs Crowley.





	half in the shadows, half burned in flames

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pondlocked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pondlocked/gifts).



> okay, so, this is my first Good Omens fic ever and I am very scared of being OOC. it's fun, it's fluff, hope i didn't damage the characters way too much.  
> have fun!

There are three things that Aziraphale does to ease his mind.

One, he reads.

Two, he dines.

Three, he calls Crowley.

However, on this particularly hot night, Aziraphale doesn’t feel like this list works. For one thing, anytime he tries to read the words get complicated in his mind and he has to read a sentence twice or thrice to get a grip of it. He lost his appetite, it is also a problem by itself. Every time he tries to eat something, he feels like the bite is stuck in his throat. And he cannot simply call Crowley, the demon needs a time out, too, Aziraphale thinks.

So he tries to do one thing Crowley chooses over books: sleeping.

He turns and turns in his bed, he tries to dream of pretty things like dining at Ritz with Crowley or taking a walk with him at St. James. Those are all pretty things; shiny and summery -- but they don’t help him to fall asleep.

Apparently, sleeping has a side effect: it _lets_ Aziraphale think and thinking (or overthinking, at his case) makes him a lot worse.

So he moves on to the next item on his list of relaxation and calls Crowley. _One_ , he decides he should hang up. It’s very late at night. _Two_ . Maybe Crowley is not home, maybe he is out there somewhere tempting people. _Three_. He is being extremely rude by insisting on this phone call -- and before he could hang up, the other end of the line answers with a grunt.

“Oh, hi, Crowley, it is me, Aziraphale.”

“Yup.” the demon grunts again. He was probably asleep only moments ago.

“I, uh, I’m sorry if I woke you up. I just had this question in my head for hours and I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I thought maybe--”

“Stop rambling, will you?” Crowley cuts him off. “What’s the question, angel?”

 _Angel_.

Aziraphale can never understand the way he addresses him. There were times when the nick name sounded like an insult and there were times it sounded like an accusation. But sometimes, mostly for the last few centuries, Crowley calls him “Angel” as if it is a way of--

“Hey, you went mute or something?” the demon interrupts his chain of thoughts.

“No, I’m sorry, I just… Crowley, my dear, I must ask.” he takes a deep breath. “What happened to the third baby?”

There is a minute of silence and Aziraphale is afraid the line went down but Crowley speaks again. When he does, he sounds like he is trying to control himself.

“What baby?”

“You know, the baby. The surplus one. The actual Dowling baby. I mean, the Young Baby went to the Dowlings and Satan’s son went to the Youngs… but what happened to the Dowling Baby?”

“Are you fucking serious?” Crowley almost yells and Aziraphale winces at the sound. “Are you actually calling me to ask about a stupid baby?”

“But he didn’t know what was happening!” the angel opposes. “For all he knows, he is out there without knowing his actual family and why they abandoned him and now that Adam is actually the Young Boy… it got me thinking.” the last part sounds a bit weak.

“Angel, go back to… doing whatever you do when normal people sleep.” Crowley sighs. “Read a good detective novel or something; those always cheer you up.”

“Yes, I already tried that.” Aziraphale whines and he hears Crowley chuckle. “And then I took your advice.”

He can almost see Crowley raising his eyebrow.

“Did you, now?” the demon teases. At least he doesn’t sound angry now. “And which advice would that be?”

“The one about sleeping.” Aziraphale admits and he hears the demon chuckle again. “It didn’t work, obviously, and I don’t understand how you do it. It just messes up everything else.”

“ _What_ ?” Crowley sounds like he can’t believe what he just heard. “It makes everything _easier_ , if anything.”

“You can’t possibly tell me that you go to sleep without a single worry in your mind and go off easily. It makes you think and thinking keeps you up and it’s just--”

“Don’t ruin this for me.” Crowley mumbles. “Do you want me to sing you a lullaby or something?”

Aziraphale laughs at the image in his head and sighs, feeling a bit better know.

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve done.” but then he clears his throat. “But about the baby -- the original Dowling Baby, I mean--”

“Look, Aziraphale, we can’t do anything to find him now. The records are all gone, you can’t ask the guys up there and I can’t simply go investigate the matter further in hell.” he takes a deep breath and Aziraphale imagines him in his bed, covered all in black and plants everywhere, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just let it go, will you?”

“But I can’t!” he objects him once more. “I’m an angel, I can’t just ignore a child’s life that was messed up because of our sides!”

“Ah, for the love of--!” Crowley stops himself in the mid sentence. “There are no sides, angel, okay? How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“Maybe for a couple of years, tops.” Aziraphale tries to joke but it goes in vain. “My point is, there is a child out there who doesn’t even know his family and here we are sitting on--”

“Sleeping, some of us.”

“Sitting on our precious--our precious -- _human bodies_ and watch the life go by because we got lucky.”

Crowley hangs up at that and Aziraphale is surprised at the action; okay, it made sense that the demon was bored of his mind and wanted to continue his humanly habit of sleeping but it seemed rather rude of him, despite the description of his being. At that, the doors of the bookshop swing open, revealing none other than Anthony J. Crowley himself.

“If anything, I am the one who messed up the change and let the surplus baby go his merry way, okay?” he continues as if they are still on the phone and it takes the angel by surprise.

“Well, I don’t want you to mess up a young boy’s life, then.” he stammers after a few seconds and Crowley takes his glasses off, just to show Aziraphale that he is rolling eyes.

“Why can’t you just sleep like the half of the world does as of the moment?” Crowley changes the subject and Aziraphale shrugs, playing with a loose thread on his sleeve.

“Sleeping is hard and reading is not my thing right now and Ritz doesn’t open till morning.”

“And?” the demon raises an eyebrow while Aziraphale thinks that there is no one that can do it like the demon himself does.

“And... I don’t know. There are a lot of things that went wrong because of this… _war_. I can’t basically shake that off.”

Crowley purses his lips and takes a few steps towards Aziraphale, his serpent eyes locked on his.

“You really gotta sleep.” he almost hisses but the angel thinks it could be easily a whisper.

“I can’t.” he repeats. “It’s so much trouble.”

“Come on,” Crowley clutches onto his arm and drags the angel to his bedroom upstairs. “I’m gonna show you how to sleep so you can leave me the hell alone.”

“You are going to teach me how to sleep?” Aziraphale smiles ear to ear. “Oh, thank you, Crowley.”

“Don’t _thank_ me.” Crowley hisses as he sits on a chair he demon-miracled next to Aziraphale’s bed. “Just get in your bed and sleep already.”

“Sure, sure, sure.” the angel rushes into bed and pulls the covers over his shoulders. “Is this okay?”

Crowley crosses his arms and lets his legs rest on the bed as he rolls eyes.

“Whatever works for you, I guess.” he murmurs. “Now close your eyes, take a deep breath and just let yourself sleep, angel.”

Aziraphale does exactly he is told but he just can’t seem to shut his brain out, too.

“What if I am not capable of sleeping?” he asks with a whisper. “What if it’s just an angel thing?”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s a common thing.” Crowley scolds him. “And if you try to open your eyes or distract yourself from sleeping I will show you what hell actually looks like besides the trial room.”

“Are you going to stay here all night?” Aziraphale asks behind his closed eyelids, hoping that the demon didn’t go away already.

“Just sleep, Aziraphale.” Crowley sighs. “And don’t tempt me to leaving you with all your anxiety and stuff.”

Feeling much more relaxed than he have thought he would, Aziraphale doesn’t risk it and just gives a long sigh. Maybe, he thinks before he dozes off, maybe it’s not such a bad thing that Crowley calls him “angel” like he means something else; something more meaningful.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand please leave a comment and kudos, i need validation more than i need air
> 
> tumblr: newurleans


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